


High Glow: Interlude

by catherinewestwood



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006), The L Word
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherinewestwood/pseuds/catherinewestwood
Summary: This piece probably will not make sense if one hasn't read the High Glow series. Still, feel free to jump in! However if you have read the predecessor series, then this "interlude" takes place somewhere in the middle of it. Also, an important caveat: This "interlude" may or may not have happened.





	1. Everything Tastes Better

Alcohol was integral to Andy’s plan. She had already downed two shots of her Glenlivet when the door buzzed. The suite’s bar was stocked to overflowing. She smiled to herself, and went to the door.

“Helena.”

“Well, I took your advice. I feel like I’m already plastered.”

Andy giggled and closed the door behind her guest. “Good, then it won’t take much, will it?”

Instead of answering, Helena drew her lover to her. “I’m not even sure this is a good idea.”

“You’re right; it’s a  _great_  idea.”

Helena kissed her, the Brit’s tongue playing fast and loose with Andy’s. The older woman broke away, hiding her face in her lover’s neck. “Oh, God.”

Andy reached up to pet Helena’s hair soothingly. “Relax, it’s going to be fun.”

Helena stepped away, and took off her Burberry trench. “If you say so. But, really, I can’t think of anyone else I’d do this for.”

“With. Anyone else you’d do this  _with_ ,” Andy corrected.

Helena rolled her eyes. “I need some more wine.”

“It’s over by the bar. I got your favorite.”

“Ah, what trouble this Malbec is going to get me in to.”

Andy came up behind her, and started playing with the buttons of Helena’s blouse. “And what trouble _I_  am going to get you in to.”

Helena took a giant gulp of the lovely red wine, and leaned back in to her lover. “That, darling, goes without saying.”

Andy hummed as she kissed her way up Helena’s neck, nipping at the places that she knew Helena liked best. “I’m already wet for you.”

“Just for me?”

Andy chuckled at the possessive tone. “Yes, just for you.”

Helena sighed. “This could go wrong on so many levels.”

“You worry too much. Drink your wine, and let me touch you some more.”

Before Andy could make good on her promise, however, the door buzzed again.

Andy chuckled at how Helena’s body tensed. “Take a sip. I’ll be back.”

Helena grumbled beneath her breath, and Andy chose wisely to ignore it.

She made her way leisurely to the door, the Scotch putting some added swing in her step. She paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob, and daintily licked her lips.

Before she could think anymore, she pulled the door open, and smiled widely in welcome. “Miranda. I’m glad you’re here.”

There was a bit of a glassy edge to the editrix’s eyes. “That makes one of us, Andrea.”


	2. Everything Tastes Better

They stand apart from each other, nearly the entire length of the bar separating them. Miranda and Helena look at each other with a good deal of shock, even though they knew what they were in for, but as if they still cannot believe it has actually come to this. As if this is actually going to happen.

Andy watches them, and almost smug grin begins to creep its way across her face. She stops it in time, but she cannot help but feel a sense of dizzying power sweep through her. Only she could have made this possible. There is no one else in the world but Andrea Sachs who could have attained this trifecta; the knowledge is enough to give her already soaring confidence a boost right in to arrogance.

“Ladies,” she says, just to get their attention. Two pairs of eyes swivel her way, and Andy swallows in anticipation. This is going to be  _so_  good.

Entirely sure that she has their attention, Andy starts to unbutton her top ever so slowly. She looks between them, and smiles. Then when she has finished the job, she shimmies out of the top, and dangles it from the tip of her index finger.

She smiles and tosses it in the space between her and them. Then, with one last sultry look, Andy turns on her heel and walks leisurely in to the suite’s bedroom.

Miranda and Helena both latch on to the vision of the discarded blouse on the ground, as if they’re seeing an apparition. Helena looks away first, and downs what’s left in her sizable goblet of wine. Without looking at Miranda, she strides in to the bedroom.

Miranda looks at her go, and then takes a moment to look out of the large windows of the Four Seasons Hotel. Then, as is her habit, she decides to take the bull by the horns. She strolls past the living room, and in to the bedroom, ignoring the fact that her heart is almost beating out of her chest. She enters the bedroom with purpose, and watches for a moment as Helena kisses Andy with unreserved passion. The memories come back, and Miranda is flushed with both lust and envy. She has never been one to passively observe, and before she can think through her actions, the champagne works its magic and her own natural instincts take over as she starts taking off her clothes.

Andy disengages from Helena, and looks at Miranda for a moment while still holding on to Helena. Then she heads to the bed, sits down on it and holds a hand out, curling her fingers and beckoning the editrix towards her. Andy lies down and looks at Helena, smiling reassuredly while whispering, “Take it off. And come here, darling.”

Miranda doesn’t wait to see what the other woman will do. This is  _her_ fantasy, to have Andrea naked in front of her, ready for anything she wants to do. She stalks up to the edge of the bed, her head buzzing with glory and unrequited passion. She boldly grasps Andrea’s ankle, dragging her former assistant, gently but ever so firmly, towards herself. Andrea moans at the opening salvo, and the endless possibilities make Miranda’s breath go shallow; to have all of this bounty in front of her is enough to make the editrix dizzy. Slowly, ever so slowly, Miranda kneels on the edge of the bed, and lowers her mouth to Andrea’s hipbone and gently kisses her there. She hears the moan above her, and feels herself get wetter. This is everything she wants, and could never speak a word of.

Until Andrea had made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.

Helena watches them together, and the added combination of the wine lights an insatiable fire in her veins. A combination of desire and jealousy at seeing these two beautiful women together, both bodies that she has explored at length during her life. It is almost surreal, and she almost forgets to breathe as she watches Miranda worship her lover’s body. She realizes then that Miranda has wanted this for so long, wanted what Helena has had for a few short months, wanted what Miranda had denied herself for so long. The scent of lust rises to her, beckoning her no more strongly than Andy’s eyes could. Her lover looks at her, half-invitingly and half-challenging, and Helena has never been more ready.

Miranda feels the bed dip, and from the corner of her eye, she can see a naked Helena join them. With the flash of memories at the sight of her former lover’s nude body, Miranda realizes to her great surprise, that this only heightens her arousal; she didn’t expect to have Helena add fuel to her frenzy, but Miranda guesses that the surprises will only continue. She closes her eyes, and nuzzles gently with her mouth at Andrea’s abdomen, kissing everywhere that she can reach. She feels the younger woman’s legs part underneath her, and her reaction is instantaneous; Miranda moans and gently scrapes her nails over the inside of Andrea’s thighs.

She cannot wait to do all that she has dreamed of doing. One of her hands abandons the endless promise of Andrea’s thighs, and creeps towards the breasts that have haunted Miranda’s dreams for far too long. She hears the resultant moan as she palms them, and knows that there will never be enough time to fuck Andrea. But Miranda excels at making the best of a less-than-perfect set up.

Helena kisses Andy’s neck, sucking on the pulsing tendons there firmly, and cannot stop from keeping one eye on Miranda’s actions. There is a curious splurge of longing, as if this room, this bed, this setting is suddenly a magical place where past and present have collided; Helena cannot stop herself because Andy’s hands reach up in to her hair, and her lover gasps as they kiss. Andy moans, and then massages the British woman’s neck, urging her to kiss her more deeply. “Helena,” Andy whispers wantonly, and Helena cannot answer because she is more interested in biting the giving flesh of her lover’s shoulder even as her fingers find her way into Andy’s mouth. When Andy then sucks on her fingers, Helena quivers in response and is overwhelmed.

Helena returns the come-on by giving her lover everything she has to offer, as she always does with Andy, because she is beyond taken. Then she feels a foreign hand touch her thigh, and without even looking, she knows it is Miranda offering an olive branch in only the way that Miranda can. She closes her eyes, and moves back to Andy’s mouth, moaning in to it as she imagines the three of them entwined in her mind’s eye.

This was why she accepted Andy’s request; Helena knew, somewhere in the darker recesses of her mind, that this what all three of them had been building up to with their interactions. It was impossible to avoid, really; Miranda wanted Andy, Andy wanted both of them, and Helena thought she had been sure that she knew how she felt about Miranda. But as she feels her former lover’s hand slide over her the curve of her bottom even as Miranda’s mouth continues to nibble at Andy, Helena realizes that she’s left normalcy far behind. And she’s never been more glad of it.

Helena dips to Andy’s breasts, notices Miranda’s hand already teasing one of them, and then Helena makes a decision without even fully considering it. She licks and sucks around Miranda’s fingers, making Andy moan even louder, and Helena realizes that as Miranda also sounds her deep appreciation that this is the first act that finally joins all three of them together.

Even if it is just for one night.

Helena closes her eyes, and unerringly her other hand lands in Miranda’s hair, finally fully acquiescing that her former lover has joined them for this unforgettable revelry. Miranda moans as she feels Helena complete the circle, all the more momentous for the fact that Miranda could finally no longer hold herself back from the heat emanating from Andrea’s core. She glanced up for a moment to see Helena watching her, the hand still gentle in her hair. She smiles wickedly at her former lover, and after a moment, Helena winks back at her. They both look at Andy, whose eyes are closed, and is panting at being the recipient of perhaps the world’s most exquisite experience.

Helena kisses Andy’s breasts for one long moment, and then gently puts pressure on the back of Miranda’s head. The editrix needs no further encouragement as she bends down to the source of Andrea’s desire. This is truly the centerpiece of every one of Miranda’s desires, and she cannot wait to have Andrea come in her mouth.


	3. Everything Tastes Better

She wakes up slowly, in degrees, and begins to take stock of her surroundings. She looks to her right, and catches sight blearily of the clock. It’s a little past 6AM, and it feels like her eyelashes are fused together because she forgot to take off her mascara from last night. The temperature is cold, but then she realizes she is naked, and the comforter must be to her left. Her muscles hurt in a multitude of places and ways, but very few uncomfortably so. She closes her eyes and breathes in, willing her body to leave this place behind. She turns her head to her left and notices two heads nestled near each other, the majority of the comforter hiding the rest of their bodies.

Yes, she really has to go. As stealthily as possible, she lifts herself off the bed, trying not to jostle her companions. She puts her feet on the floor, and then pushes away finally from this oasis. She spots various articles of her clothing thankfully all discarded in one spot, along with her Prada stilettos. She bends to gather them and swiftly makes her way out of the master suite, and walks to one of the smaller bathrooms.

She closes the door behind her, and mentally gets ready for the vision that awaits her when she turns on the light. She straightens her spine, and steels herself before flicking it on. The bright fluorescent light that seems to be ubiquitous in hotel bathrooms, no matter how expensive they are, burns through the last of her haze.

She slowly glances up at the mirror above the sink. There are a million thoughts running through her mind, but finally one rises above the din: Miranda, what have you done?

_She feels as if she is floating outside of herself, the pleasure singing through her veins, and she cannot grasp at any thought long enough to fully entertain it. And then she comes, and both of her lovers moan as she arches her back, and screams dully in to the night. She hears them distantly, and neither of them stop their onslaught, which only prolongs her pleasure until it is skating on the edge of pain._

_She is in a heretofore unknown place, her mind fuzzy and unrelenting in its desire to stay in this alternate universe. Finally, ever so slowly, she feels herself come back to the present, and as she opens her eyes blearily, the first thing she sees is Helena poised over her, smiling brilliantly. Miranda  is overcome with gratitude and kisses her, sucking her lover’s tongue deeply in to her mouth. She feels Andrea’s breath beat hard against her thigh, and reaches a hand down to curve over her former employee’s neck, urging her up._

Miranda opens her cavernous handbag, and removes her supplies, neatly lining up the separate make-up remover for her eyes and the rest of her face. She savagely rips some facial tissues from its receptacle, methodically applying the remover in the center, and then carefully dabbing around her eyes before doing the same to her eyelids.

She discards the first tissue in the trashcan, and then rips a new one to slowly removing the traces of her concealer, eyeliner, and mascara from around her eyes.

When she has repeated this step twice more, she starts with more tissues, and this time the foundation remover. She is careful around the T-zone, and her neck, but with habit comes speed, and within ten minutes, she is ready to wash her face. She watches the foam rise up between her hands, the cleanser silky between her fingers.

_She watches Andrea kiss Helena, hotly, wetly once more, and then Andrea pulls away to see the proof of her pleasure all over Miranda’s lips. She smiles beatifically, and kisses away some of the wetness covering the editrix’s lips. Miranda moans in to her mouth, and Andrea realizes, with a jolt, that is the culmination of one of Miranda’s greatest, most illicit wishes. Miranda moves then to kiss Helena, and Andrea moves to Miranda’s breasts, continuing to leave hickeys all over her body. It’s only fair because Miranda has left so many marks on Andrea’s body; she wants to leave something by which the younger woman can remember her._

Miranda firmly ignores the reactions in her body as its desires are re-awakened by these recollections. Instead she pads her face gently dry with a lush towel, and then pauses in the mirror, deciding what she will do to her face this morning. But she already knows that the past for grand declarations are over. She reaches once again for the concealer, and shakes the tiny tube gently before opening it and squeezing the smallest amount on to her ring finger of her left hand.

She uses her right index finger to dab gently at the bags under her eyes, being careful to run a smooth finger over the liquid, blending it expertly in to her skin. She repeats the process on her eyelids, and her face’s T-zone. When she looks back at herself, she can barely see the evidence yet is pleased that the exhausting rimming her eyes have been significantly decreased. At least, as far as appearances ago.

_And then, it happens. Andrea draws Helena toward her with one hand, and lets go of Miranda’s mouth and urges them together. They pause for an infinitesimal moment, considering each other, weighing the consequences. Then Andrea runs her hands over each of their bodies, encouraging them. Helena moves first, considering it her own reconciliatory action, opening her mouth to Miranda. She moans inadvertently as she tastes Andy on Miranda’s tongue, and delves deeper trying to find more. Miranda gives herself over to the moment, and lets herself be drawn in to the embrace, nearly forgetting Andrea there between them._

_It was as if time had been spun back fifteen years, and they were once again indulging in an inadvisable romance. The emotion is banked, and far too clouded for any one emotion to rise up above others, but sexual desire continues to rise to the top, making itself known and refusing to be denied._

_Miranda runs her hands over the curves of Helena’s body, even as she feels Helena’s hands tremble between her legs. The feel of Andrea’s fingers gently combing through her hair grounds Miranda, and she opens herself in reaction. The editrix feels herself surrounded, with Andrea behind her and Helena underneath her._

_She can feel Andrea lick at her nape before descending lower, mouthing her back as if Miranda’s spinal column was the most decadent dessert platter. She arches in to that embrace, inadvertently but exquisitely giving Helena enough room and opportunity to push inside her. Miranda moans loudly, not for the first time and certainly not the last, unsure of which touch to focus on, feeling the sensory overload between her mind, body, and two lovers._

_And then Andrea surprises her by brashly pouring Scotch down the curve of her spine. Miranda has no time to yelp in astonishment because almost as quickly, Andrea’s mouth is at the base of her spine, lapping away the alcohol. And then her young lover’s mouth slips even lower, as Helena pushes deeper in to her body._

The powder foundation needs less care, but Miranda is not one for a sloppy job regardless of the thoughts hammering through her memory.

She swirls the make-up brush twice over the caked color in her compact, and then shakes the brush, once, violently, to dislodge the excess powder. She starts with her cheekbones, stroking broadly upward.

She repeats the process over her forehead with one hand holding her hair back, and then sweeps the brush over her nose. Then once again for her jaw, chin, and neck. She carefully puts away the brush and her compact before reaching in to her handbag for her eyeliner and mascara.

_Miranda is kissing Helena’s neck even as her hands sweep over her former lover’s body, re-learning and re-conquering an old landscape. Helena urges Miranda to her mouth, and the editrix takes the opportunity to stroke at Helena with both her tongue and her fingers._

_The reaction is instantaneous, and Miranda’s head buzzes with pride at how Helena arches in to her touch. Just as she finds her rhythm, Miranda feels Andrea behind her, entering her slowly, stretching her deliciously, and she cannot hold back. “Oh, my God,” she quivers, trying not to lose her pace with Helena._

_She hears Andrea chuckle wickedly in to her ear. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Miranda. Do you like being bent over for me?”_

_Miranda knows that a physical response is all that she is capable of right now, and pushes in to Andrea with her back and thighs, wordlessly, helplessly asking for more. Andrea smiles again, and nips at her former boss’ neck. “Oh, yes, I knew you’d love this. Now you fuck Helena, and let me fuck you.”_

She takes one last look at herself, and is satisfied with the result, which is all the she could do really with her limited tools. She removes her chosen perfume, Yves Saint Laurent’s  _Opium_ , which would seem overpowering on almost anyone else, and spritzes her clothes.

She puts everything back in her handbag, and closes it with a decided snap. Gently, she opens the bathroom door, and looks for her overcoat. Spotting thrown haphazardly over an enormous couch, she stalks towards it and then dons it silently.

She cannot help herself as she walks ever so quietly back in to the bedroom. She sees them together, two brunette heads, still asleep, their noses nearly touching as they face each other. She can see from even here that Andrea has one arm slung over Helena’s waist under the comforter.

Miranda realizes, among so many other things, that they are excellently matched, and that she cannot fault them for finding or relishing each other.

She quickly knots her overcoat closed, and with one last, lingering look, she turns away, and walks purposefully out of the suite and makes her way toward the elevators.

At this time of the morning, the elevators remain empty, and she is happy for the last few moments of solitude. She slips on her sunglasses, and as the doors open in to the lobby, she lets an infinitesimal smile curve her lips as she steps back in to her reality.

 

 

 

 

 

_– Fin_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More stories at catherinewestwood.wordpress.com

**Author's Note:**

> More stories at catherinewestwood.wordpress.com


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